Tiny Love Stories
"I always thought love stories ended in grandiose moments of rage, jealousy or despair. It turns out they happen on a sunny suburban day when you’re figuring out whether to have fish and chips for dinner or not."
Anonymous submissions, compiled by Georgia Sprivulis.
I was dating his best friend. He had been sleeping with one of my best friends. We met at a party, and he asked me to let him know when my boyfriend and I would be leaving as he was hoping to catch a lift home with us. I said sure, put your number in my phone, I’ll call you when we are leaving. He texted me the next day. We were together by the next month. Did we feel bad? Of course we did. We stayed together for two years. Did I feel stupid for hurting two people I cared about for a relationship that only lasted 2 years? Did I ever.
Izzy, 18, University of Western Australia
We had been together for about two weeks. One morning we were lying in bed, both fully dressed but not quite ready to get up and leave for class. Then out of nowhere, “I love you” he said, then his eyes immediately widened as he realized what he had done. I froze. “I’m sorry, that was fast, I didn’t mean to say that. I think it was my subconscious talking” he said while hiding his face in a pillow. “Well”, I reply, “I think my subconscious would say it loves you too”.
Will, 21, University of New South Wales
“You don’t have to be into everyone who pays you attention”
We lived in the same college. He told my friend he was “into me”, whatever that really means. I toyed with the idea of it for a while. I wasn’t immediately interested, but maybe I could give it a shot? We were at a mutual friends’ house watching movies, him sitting on the end of the couch, me lying down with my legs draped over him. There was a split second of sexual tension and then it disappeared. No, you don’t have to show interest in everyone who pays attention to you. What a great lesson to learn. Thank you friend.
Ashley, 20, University of Sydney
We had just gone to the beach. I could tell you were frustrated with me about something, but back then there was always something, so I ignored it. I talked to myself the whole car ride home until a song played off my phone and you said: “I hate this one. I hate songs that are named after places. It’s shit and it’s uninspired.” You knew I loved it. I felt hollow in my stomach and the next day I wrote about how wonderful it was to have loved you. I always thought love stories ended in grandiose moments of rage, jealousy or despair. It turns out they happen on a sunny suburban day when you’re figuring out whether to have fish and chips for dinner or not.
Matt, 25, University of Wollongong
After my first boyfriend and I broke up, I bought a little heart. It was opaque and red and carved from a stone and I got it in a dingy hole-in-the-wall tourist shop on the north end of the Piazza Navona. The rest of the day I walked the cobblestone streets with my parents and rubbed the smooth cold surface into my palm. I had hoped it would serve to remind me that love really is wonderful, even in the turmoil of being a 20-year-old parting from her first. I forgot about it soon after, and found it recently when I was going through an old jewelry box. A reassuring reminder that I didn’t even need it. A siren call to my ex. A sad realization of how hopeful I was. A comforting message that heartbreak is never as bad as you think it will be. And now, a warming memory from my time in Rome; travel, family, and the knowledge that there’s more to life than love.
Alexa, 23, Australian National University